Jesus of Suburbia

I'm the son of rage and love
 The Jesus of Suburbia
 The bible of "none of the above"
 On a steady diet of
 Soda pop and Ritalin
 No one ever died for my sins in hell
 As far as I can tell
 At least the ones I got away with
 And there's nothing wrong with me
 This is how I'm supposed to be
 In a land of make-believe
 That don't believe in me
 Get my television fix
 Sitting on my crucifix
 The living room or my private womb
 While the moms and Brads are away
 To fall in love and fall in debt
 To alcohol and cigarettes and Mary Jane
 To keep me insane
 Doing someone else's cocaine
 And there's nothing wrong with me
 This is how I'm supposed to be
 In a land of make-believe
 That don't believe in me
 ♪
 At the center of the earth, in the parking lot
 Of the 7-11 where I was taught
 The motto was just a lie
 It says, "Home is where your heart is," but what a shame
 'Cause everyone's heart doesn't beat the same
 It's beating out of time
 City of the dead (hey, hey)
 At the end of another lost highway (hey, hey)
 Signs misleading to nowhere
 City of the damned (hey, hey)
 Lost children with dirty faces today (hey, hey)
 No one really seems to care
 I read the graffiti in the bathroom stall
 Like the holy scriptures of the shopping mall
 And so it seemed to confess
 It didn't say much, but it only confirmed
 That the center of the earth is the end of the world
 And I could really care less
 City of the dead (hey, hey)
 At the end of another lost highway (hey, hey)
 Signs misleading to nowhere
 City of the damned (hey, hey)
 Lost children with dirty faces today (hey, hey)
 No one really seems to care (hey)
 I don't care if you don't
 I don't care if you don't
 I don't care if you don't care
 I don't care if you don't
 I don't care if you don't
 I don't care if you don't care
 I don't care if you don't
 I don't care if you don't
 I don't care if you don't care
 I don't care if you don't
 I don't care if you don't
 I don't care if you don't care
 I don't care
 Everyone's so full of shit
 Born and raised by hypocrites
 Hearts recycled, but never saved
 From the cradles to the grave
 We are the kids of war and peace
 From Anaheim to the Middle East
 We are the stories and disciples of
 The Jesus of Suburbia
 Land of make-believe
 And it don't believe in me
 Land of make-believe (said, now it's, it's another lie)
 And I don't believe
 And I don't care (whoo, whoo, whoo)
 I don't care (whoo, whoo, whoo)
 I don't care (whoo, whoo, whoo)
 I don't care (whoo, whoo, whoo)
 I don't care
 Dearly beloved, are you listening?
 I can't remember a word that you were saying
 Are we demented, or am I disturbed?
 The space that's in between insane and insecure
 Ooh
 Ooh
 (Ooh) oh therapy, can you please fill the void?
 (Ooh) am I retarded, or am I just overjoyed?
 (Ooh) nobody's perfect, and I stand accused
 (Ooh) for lack of a better word, and that's my best excuse
 Ooh
 Ooh
 To live and not to breathe
 Is to die in tragedy
 To run, to run away
 To find what you believe
 And I leave behind
 This hurricane of fucking lies
 I lost my faith to this
 This town that don't exist
 So I run, I run away
 To the light of masochists
 And I leave behind
 This hurricane of fucking lies
 And I've walked this line
 A million and one fucking times
 But not this time
 ♪
 I don't feel any shame, I won't apologize
 When there ain't nowhere you can go
 Runnin' away from pain when you've been victimized
 Tales from another broken home
 You're leavin'
 You're leavin'
 You're leavin'
 Are you leavin' home?